


Teamwork

by orphan_account



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: ((and shitty season finale)), A LOT OF CUTENESS, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Honestly I have a lot of elaborated headcanons, Humor, M/M, Merthur - Freeform, Morgana is good, Multi chaptered fic, Slash, also some angst, but in this one I just wanted to do a milkshake of clicheed cutesy thingies, historically accurate too, merthur centric, ratings may change because there may be smut, so this is something light and fresh if you want relief from this shitty world and shitty life, yeah I know it's a cliched choice sue me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-23 09:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8322856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This story follows the rocambolesque adventures and awkward attempts of Merlin and Arthur's closest friends at trying to push them in each other's arms.





	1. Gaius

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly live for comments so please let me know what you think! :)

A hot, steamy, fragrant spoon of soup was being held right in front of his face. He could see the steam raise from it slowly, he could feel the smell of it gingerly seeping into his skin, his mouth watering because God, did he love soup.  
He moved his eyes to the person sitting in front of him and holding the spoon in his direction. Blonde hair scattered handsomely all over his forehead, intense blue irises surrounding deep blown pupils, sharp teeth biting into his inviting, plump lower lip curved in a smirk.   
He slowly, gently moved it towards his lips until he managed to rest it on them, and Merlin knew how much his mouth drove him crazy, so he made a show of circling the spoon with his lips, inch by inch, eating the soup as slowly as possible and then licking it clean with deliberate, lewd flicks of his tongue, all the while staring intensely at those hooded blue eyes. He watched as Arthur's mouth fell open, as he squirmed on his chair, then refilled the spoon with shameless enthusiasm, holding it up again for Merlin to give him a nice, obscene show. It wasn't until he saw that the soup in the plate was steamy and the one on the spoon wasn't that he noticed something was clearly wrong. His head snapped up, meeting a very older pair of eyes.   
"May I know why you have been smiling at your soup for more than five minutes?" asked Gaius, smile playing on his lips.   
All the blood that the daydream pushed to his groin rushed up vehemently to his cheeks, turning them the reddest shade Gaius had ever seen them.   
"No reason." Muttered Merlin, overwhelmed with embarrassment, gulping down the soup without looking at the spoon.   
Gaius looked at him under a raised, white eyebrow, eyes wrinkled by a poor attempt of hiding a knowing smirk.   
"Does it have anything to do with Arthur?"   
Merlin choked so suddenly and violently Gaius had to jump out of his seat and hit him on the shoulders a couple of times. Merlin looked up at him through teary eyes, reddened face and he looked so ridiculously miserable that Gaius burst out laughing. He wasn't sure the boy hadn't arbitrarily tried to choke himself to death just to not answer to that question, but it was just too much of a temptation for an old man like him to tease him around, embarrassing him to the point of improvising a new, more extravagant escape every time. It was his absolute favorite pastime. Still, he was quite concerned for Merlin. The kid was obviously lovestruck like a perfect fool, and when it wasn't annoying, like Merlin being all dumb smiles and giggles at the worst moments, overly talkative and extremely distracted and head so far up the sky floating between the clouds he kept crashing into things, he was painfully pitying. There were days when the poor boy returned home with low shoulders, gaze on the ground and tripping over his own feet almost unwilling to move. He sniffled all around the place until he plopped down next to the window, puffy eyes and reddened nose, weeping silently for something as obvious as completely arcane.   
It was in those moments he decided he couldn't stand his boy in that state anymore, that doing something quick and effective was up to him.   
So he caught the occasion, as Merlin noisily coughed out the last remains of soup, to pour a few droplets of a potion as transparent as powerful into the water he then offered the boy to gulp down the aftershocks with.   
He smirked when he saw Merlin drinking it in one huge sip, without question. He smacked the glass back on the table, then turned to Gaius, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Gaius, why did this water taste so foul? Usually everything you feed me tastes heavenly!"  
The old man watched him with the warmest smile curving his lips, eyes filled with fondness as he marveled at how pure the boy was. The potion was meant to bring the complete loss of brain-to-mouth filter to whoever assumed it, meaning it had the power of making someone say exactly what was going through their mind, without the slightest crumble of lie.  
And of course, he had to ruin everything by stepping up and closer to Gaius's face, eyes now almost shut, and mutter   
"Shorter hair used to fit you better, though. Now you look like an old widow."   
The man's eyes widened as Merlin chuckled and picked up his jacket from the chair, thanking him for the meal and storming out of the door to go tend to his duties, leaving the old man to confusedly making his hair bounce in his hand, almost pensively, before shrugging his shoulders and going back to the potion he left unfinished. 

When he got to Arthur's chambers, he was greeted with a familiar yell. The prince was snappy like every time he was particularly worn out after a training session. Seen as he was normally snappier than everyone he had ever known, he'd grown to dread the annoyance of the moments that separated Arthur from a meal of any kind.  
He also wasn't even vaguely aware of the fact he had said all of that out loud until he turned to see the startled, offended expression on Arthur's face, that would have been hilarious, hadn't he been the one to cause it.   
"Merlin, care to repeat what you just said about your prince?"   
"That he's an annoying, spoiled, snappy pratass and especially so when he's not full of food like a goose meant for the King's dinner for more than a min--"   
He was actually grateful for the icy bucket of water that was poured on his head, and the bucket itself that followed a few seconds after. He honestly didn't know what had gotten into him.   
Arthur looked at him under raised eyebrows, admiring his endeavor.   
"Better?"  
Merlin was bewildered. He was even more bewildered when, instead of the indignant, sarcastic: "yes, sire" he thought of saying, out of his mouth came a pathetic whine.  
"How could it be better? I'm soaking wet and I don't have any clean clothes available in the proximity."   
A flash of unexpected guilt flashed through Arthur's face for a moment, before proceeding to rip off his shirt, muddy and sweaty from the training and throw it at his face.   
"Here, you can wear this."   
He could already feel the words of appreciation for the fact that he got to wear something smelling like Arthur even under all the filth and sweat, so he fought them, keeping his mouth solidly shut and looking like he had just gulped down a very big, furry spider. Arthur didn't question it.  
Merlin quickly ran behind the screen and threw the wet shirt on it with a slapping noise, before putting on the red shirt Arthur gave him and being submerged by the feeling of not wanting to ever take it off. When he came out from behind it, Arthur chuckled at him. The sleeves covered on his hands, leaving out just his fingertips and nothing more, while his shoulders and collarbones were almost entirely naked.   
"Better now, my lord?" Asked Arthur, mocking clear in his tone.  
Merlin shivered a little.  
"A lot, thanks. Though I'm still pretty cold."   
Arthur was beginning to lose his patience, becoming way more bad tempered than he already was.  
"Well, that makes two of us! So hurry up and prepare me a bath!"   
If there was something he did not expect to happen was the sudden change in Merlin's features. His face brightened up and he flashed him a blinding smile, chirping:  
"Of course! It's my absolute favorite part of the day!"  
And knelt down to begin pouring the hot water into the tub, secretly biting his tongue as hard as he could.   
"There's no need to be sarcastic, Merlin."  
And honestly, the boy thanked everything he could think of for Arthur's assumption. He didn't know what he would have done if he did get what he said correctly.   
He dumped a few buckets of hot water into the tub and all but ordered the prince to step inside.  
He tentatively stuck a toe out to brush the surface of the water.  
"Merlin! This water is boiling!"  
Merlin squeezed his lips together at him, hair still dripping water into his eyes.  
"I'm afraid I do not dispose of the cold water that was meant for cooling it down anymore. I suggest you stop being a sissy and dive in without moaning so much."   
Arthur's eyes widened in horror.   
"Merlin! That's it! You've been acting.. well, poorly is an euphemism! You're dismissed from my chambers."  
He stubbornly shoved his leg right in the water, followed by his entire body in one movement, letting escape only a few moans impossible to stifle because, in all honesty, the water was really scorching.   
Merlin just stood in front of the tub, crossed his arms and watched him soak in the water, getting redder and redder because of the heat every second that went by, unmoving, for a time that seemed infinite, until Arthur finally snapped.  
"Well? Why are you still here?"  
"I'm waiting for you to actually start washing yourself."  
Arthur looked puzzled.  
"I.. I am washing myself, I'm IN the tub!"   
Merlin rolled his eyes and was behind him with a couple of strides, grabbing the prince's favorite lavender scented oil, knelt behind him, mixed it with water and started rubbing energetically at his scalp, then neck, then shoulders. Arthur tried not to enjoy it too much, he was still mad after all.   
"Don't touch me, I'm the prince, it's an order."  
"Whatever you say, Arthur."  
Replied Merlin, a vague note of conceit.   
And he wanted to protest, he really did, but Merlin's skinny fingers were there, pressing in all the perfect spots, the sore nerves and the hardened muscle, and he let his head fall back with a poorly stifled moan.   
Merlin just smirked and kept massaging and scrubbing his body, roughly, then gently, then roughly again and the undulating continuity was sending the prince straight to heaven. They stayed like that, without speaking a word, until the water had gotten too cold to ignored. Arthur tried to, but he began shivering and Merlin pulled him out of it and wrapped him in a towel. He was dressing him up with his usual outfit for ceremonies, had actually just been done with the pants, when Morgana all but barged in his room without even pretending to knock, carrying a mountain of cloth, silk and feathers big enough for her to almost disappear behind it.   
"Merlin, what are you making him wear? This is a special occasion. It's the masquerade ball for my birthday!"  
He stuttered something incoherent, still taken aback by the unattended intrusion. The girl stomped her feet and spoke in an unusually impatient tone.  
"He can't go dressed like his usual self, can he?"   
Merlin blinked once, then twice. He didn't see a problem with Arthur being his usual self, in his usual clothes. He didn't look anything but divine. But of course he couldn't say that, and Morgana had a point, so he gestured for her to hand him the clothes she suggested. Her response was to clutch them closer to her chest in a bolt.  
"No. I'll take care of this."  
Her furtiveness was suspicious to say the least, so much that Arthur and Merlin cast an obvious questioning glance at each other.  
"Another servant is on his way to help Arthur."   
The way her eyes were wide and she was almost shifting in her shoes didn't help making her look the littlest bit innocent.  
"You are the prince's manservant. You're going to go at the ball, and you're going to come in a costume fitting to the importance of your role."  
Declared her, plopping half of the mountain into his arms. It was more than obvious that wasn't the reason she wanted him out of there, but he played along. He turned one last time to look at Arthur, seeking for an explanation for the blatantly weird behavior of his sister, only to find in his gaze the same flabbergasted confusion.   
Morgana all but bumped Merlin out of the room with her hip, then turned around and smiled broadly at Arthur, sending a shiver of fear down his spine. He knew nothing about that, but she was going to make him look so good Merlin would finally capitulate. She was tired sick of her brother's absolutely indiscreet secret, his endless, insufferable pining.   
It was time to do something.

When Merlin finally returned from Arthur's chambers, Gaius's head snapped up from the extract he was working on, nose captured by an unfamiliar smell. He saw Merlin carrying around a handful of dark, vaguely shimmering clothes, and was just about to comment on that part of his look when he noticed the shirt. It wasn't the one he was wearing when he went to Arthur, and it was made of a much more refined fabric.   
He smiled, pleased with himself.


	2. Gwen

"...So, Merlin, how did it go?"   
Asked Gaius, trying for casual but looking as sheepish as a man of that age possibly could. The boy turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.   
"How did what go, exactly?"  
Gaius smiled a toothy, knowing smile, swaying his head, then pointed at his shirt raising his eyebrows.   
Merlin's mouth dropped open with a smack before blushing to the tip of his ears, eyes lowering to the shirt of the prince he was still wearing.   
"O-oh, this.. this is everything but what you're imagining, Gaius!"   
He stormed to his room, hearing the man call out to him as he was leaving.   
"Of course it's not!"  
He ripped the shirt off, balling it up and throwing it under his bed. He remained a couple of moments sitting on it, head resting in his hands, shirtless and panting from the embarrassment. Slowly, he turned to look at the pile of clothes he dropped onto his bed, biting slightly at his thumb. He blinked a couple of times and then he got up to examine it. Black britches, shoes and a short, silky black tunic, adorned with a few feathers. It was admittedly luxurious, but still looked basic for all of Morgana's thoughtfulness. He shrugged and began removing his pants, jumping into the rather too-tight pantaloons until they were uncomfortable enough for him to know they were on right. At least the shirt was the most comfortable he had ever gotten to wear in his whole life, so it compensated somehow.

He was just about to start complaining to Gaius about the uselessness of the whole party, about how Morgana could have chosen literally anything else, about everything that came to his mind just to distract himself from the itch of his pants. He kept squirming around, fixing them awkwardly and spastically, and was just about to eventually rip them off and go bare-legged when the door flung open.  
Gwen barged in, carrying a basket with a lot of twinkling, clattering jars, a bag full of black feathers and a big, exquisitely crafted pair of black wings. Merlin looked at her interrogatively, and she didn't bother to answer. She pushed him on a chair and didn't wait for his gaze to come back to focus before she opened one jar and started accurately spreading a slimy paste on his forehead.   
"Wh--"  
He didn't even have the time to finish the syllable before she shushed him.  
"You can't go to a masquerade if you don't mask yourself! And this is what's going to make you look exactly like you're supposed to."  
Merlin was goggling.   
"What am I supposed to look like?"  
Gwen smiled sweetly at him.  
"Didn't Morgana tell you? She planned it all along!"  
He wiggled his head as an eloquent suggestion to the fact that he didn't have the vaguest idea.  
"A raven! You're going to be a beautiful raven!"  
She said, shaking the bag of black feathers in front of his horrified face.  
"You're going to look amazing, just wait!"  
"I have my doubts.."  
Muttered Merlin, as she started to spread the glue all over his upper forehead and across his cheekbones, skewer feather by feather in the vaguely disgusting glue on his forehead and, before he could say anything about it, raise a bottle of something that looked like dirt and stick her fingers in it.  
Merlin shied away from that mud.  
"In case you can't tell, I'm ruffling my feathers at you. Please don't try to smear that indecency on my face."  
Gwen smiled the sweetest smile and replied with sincere honey in his voice.  
"Well, it's not like it can get any more indecent, now, can it?"  
She stole Merlin's moment of shocked hurt to put him at her mercé, giggling deliberately and smearing the paint with raffinate care on his cheekbones, followed by something that sparkled alarmingly.

"I.. have to admit it. I was wrong about doubting you."   
He stared at himself in the mirror Gwen handed him. His eyes flashed a deep azure under the black shadows she had draped over them, shading sapiently the same way she brought the porcelain color of his forehead to the black of the feathers, that seemed to burst right out of his skin. Placed on the perimeter of his forehead and under his cheekbones, they were slim, silky and pointed up and behind, tapering his face and launching it in complete focus. He thought it was a silly choice at first, but it turned out to make him look like an ethereal, mysterious creature of the night, and so did the silver highlights she managed to put on him after a long, infinite time spent in complaining and begging and negotiating, and he ended up adoring them. All together, it was silly how much he liked the result.   
As he was admiring himself in the mirror, Gwen tapped on Gaius' shoulder and sneaked him out of the room to inform him that Merlin had never looked better, and she was closer than ever to winning the bet.  
Gaius gave her the understanding, compassionate smile of a wise, old man.  
"Dear Guinevere, I'm generous and I love you youngsters, so I refuse the prize and let you all keep your money, but it is fair to let you know I won the bet. Today Merlin came back from Arthur's chambers wearing his shirt after we had a.. conversation."   
Guinevere smirked.  
"Oh, I don't deny it, but it's a shame that, unfortunately, Merlin and Arthur aren't together, and haven't even done anything. I know because the shirt was dirty and sweaty and Merlin's hair was still wet, so it's clear that it wasn't at all a romantic gesture but one of human decency, which the prince is very proud to incarnate. I'm afraid Merlin would be way more dreamy if something happened between them. We would have to valerian him unconscious to get him to stop singing and swirling around."  
Gaius' smile fell at those words, muting in frustration.   
"You're right.."  
Murmured, and slowly returned in the room with the pace of someone deeply pensive.  
Guinevere's head peeked in and she waved goodbye, because it was already late and she still had to prepare herself. Merlin jumped up, smacked her on the cheek as a thank you and returned to sit in various positions in front of the window, still trying to figure out a way to hypnotize himself into not ripping his pantaloons off.  
Gaius pulled an ampoule containing the same potion from earlier out of his sleeve, slipping it in a glass of water, coughed a couple of times, then asked in the least innocent tone, "Merlin, aren't you a bit thirsty? You look like it. Here, have some water, take it."  
Merlin narrowed his eyes at him, then at the glass, suspicious.  
"No, thank you, Gaius. I'm fine."

When he arrived at the great hall, later that night, it was already filled with people dressed in all kinds of extravagant ways. He started making his way through the crowd looking for Morgana to wish her a happy birthday, and noticed people turning to stare at him in stupor, almost awe, in a way he never thought possible. He paced slowly, looking intently at every person he saw, when he caught a glimpse of yellow embodying a cascade of brown, curly hair and followed it, reaching the girl, turning her around and being taken aback by the sumptuousness of the giant petals spurting out of her head and framing her face, of the yellow eyelids and the flaming red lips.  
"Gwen! I wanted to thank you again for what you did for me today.. you didn't have to, but you did anyway. You're a good friend. Also, you're a stunning flower!"  
She smiled at him, squeezing his hand and letting it go, her face embodying brightness.  
"Thank you, Merlin! It was my pleasure, though I'll have you know that if you'd seen how insistent Morgana has been about it, you'll get that in fact, I did have to."  
They laughed and chatted lightly together for awhile, joking about people, their costumes and the way they sported them with pride and haughtiness, until Gwen finally spotted Morgana in the crowd, standing next to a man. When Merlin turned to look at her, he was surprised. He didn't think he had ever seen anything that fierce in his whole life. She was wrapped in a rather adherent emerald dress, sparkles of gold embodied in it like scales, sharp crests jutting out of it, running down her back and the train. Her face was painted with green and silver, and her vibrant eyes completed it. She was royal, almost solemn, a majestic, shimmering dragon.  
He was just about to start pacing towards her when he recognized the man she was talking to and nearly lost his balance, stepping back a few times to not trip over his own feet. His breath caught in his throat, clogging it and making him nearly choke on the sound of stupor he struggled not to let escape.  
Arthur was simply otherworldly.   
His strong features were exquisitely highlighted by an azure paint way too close to the blue of his own eyes to be anything but incredible, and they were brought out even more by an intense, glistening, unbelievable golden hue.   
He was wearing an outfit that was similar to his, yet completely different, in a way that was almost unsettling. It was azure and white, and it made them look opposite but still somehow tangled together. His figure was almost wrapped in enormous, glorious white wings, big enough for the longest feathers to brush on the ground. They were curved down, as if closed, but he looked like he could effortlessly fly with them if only he wanted to, unlike Merlin's own, that were small and spread out, merely symbolic.  
He couldn't breathe.   
Right then, he found himself being grateful for everything that took him to that moment. The image of Arthur looking like a literal angel and glowing placidly in the candlelight would be something he'd cherish for the rest of his existence, and once again gave a reason, an explanation to the purpose of his life.  
Or maybe he was just a lovestruck fool.


	3. Lancelot

Merlin started making his way towards Arthur, legs still wobbly, breath rasping in his throat. He felt like Icarus, wanting to get the closest possible to the sun, feeling the radiant, overwhelming heat of it scorching his very being, drilling a hole through his soul, weakening him every step he took, but he couldn't stop himself.  
He felt a pull that went deeper than the rational one, a string tied solidly to his soul till the very moment he stepped on the earth, and in that moment, Arthur incarnated everything good and pure. He incarnated the very meaning of hope itself.  
He reached Morgana while Arthur had turned around for a couple of seconds to talk to a knight.  
Merlin took the chance to happily thank Morgana for the costume and the wonderful party, and she responded by hugging him with transport.  
"You're looking wonderful tonight, Merlin!"  
"Merlin?!"  
Arthur turned on himself in a jerk, just to google at his manservant, mouth dropping open with a smacking sound.  
He looked absolutely flabbergasted.  
Morgana had seen his gaze, as Merlin noticed by a twitch of her irises, and exclaimed, laughter in her voice: "Arthur! Looks like you appreciate the hard work I put into Merlin's costume!"  
The boy's ears reddened in a rush.  
Merlin smiled broadly at him.  
"I like his costume too, Morgana! The cherub appearances really fit him."  
Morgana burst out laughing, as Arthur reddened even more, pushed out his chest and snapped haughtily at him.  
"I'm supposed to be a swan! What are you, though? You look like a cleaning utensil."  
"Merlin! Hey!"  
Before he could reply to Arthur's rudeness, he felt a pair of arms wrapping around his back as Lancelot hugged him from behind.  
"Ah, for once Gwaine isn't the one with the most over-the-top head!"  
Percival was right behind them.  
"Are you sure? I've seen him running around dressed as a sunflower. That man is an embarrassment to all of the Knights of Camelot."  
Merlin turned to laugh and looked at them. Percival had some dark green paint messily smeared over his face and a piece of paper attached to his clothes with a safety pin that read: 'I'm a snake'.  
Lancelot had blue, silver and orange scales painted all over his face, neck and hands, and a pair of fins attached precarious to his elbows. Merlin figured he probably was something along the lines of a fish, but seen what he just did, he wasn't the best at assumptions. His cheeks were still a dark pink.

As the evening went by, Merlin found himself being continuously and suspiciously offered drinks of every kind by his friends, in an increasing frequency, which he sometimes accepted, but often refused with politeness.  
Arthur on the contrary, which was being subjected to the same weird behavior of their friends, happily gulped every drink down to the last drop, laughter becoming louder and louder every time.  
At some point, though, without even being aware of when, Merlin found himself with his vision blurred, the room spinning gently, hot breaths and silly chatter surrounding him everywhere, a stridule laughter booming here and there all of a sudden, and he felt more cheerful than ever. He was singing as off key as loudly with a few knights throwing back his head and laughing restlessly, when Lancelot did something.  
Merlin didn't pay much attention to what was surrounding him, but he was sure that Arthur was the only one who drank more than him, and certainly Lancelot wasn't one of the ones whose drunkenness could have held a fight with Merlin's, so he couldn't find a reason why at some point, suddenly and completely unexpectedly, the man shot a long glance behind his shoulders and then jerked his head towards Merlin, grabbed his cheeks and kissed him sound on the lips.  
Lancelot knew it was a bit too extreme, but damn him if he wasn't going to win that bet, so he pushed his mouth harder on Merlin's when he felt the cup of wine slide from the boy's weakened fingers and clatter on the ground with a resounding noise, and he smirked, sure more than ever that Arthur was watching thoroughly every second of it. Gwaine's own glass fell on the ground as he started clapping sloppily with sarcasm, because that was "just not fair."  
He felt Merlin's fingers dig into his short hair until he could get a handful of them to grab, and before he knew it, they were fully, unashamedly making out. Merlin was too drunk to be stopped, and he was having fun himself at the thought of how mad he was driving the prince, so he kept kissing him until he felt a hand on the back of his neck that didn't belong to Merlin, and he was vehemently pulled away from him in one, furious motion. He blinked a couple of times, just to see Arthur's livid face come into focus. Fuming was an euphemism. He had never seen his prince look that rabid in all the time he'd known him, and he would never have admitted it, but it somehow scared a little part within him.  
He didn't even have the time to properly process those thoughts before Arthur's fist impacted violently on his cheek, making him lose his balance and fall on his back.  
He looked up and Arthur was right above him, panting, and he actually feared for his life, but then the prince simply took his white glove off and dropped it on his still heaving chest. Lancelot suppressed a smile as he slowly circled it with his hand. Risking his life for two absolute dumbasses to kiss wasn't admittedly how he wanted to die, but if he wasn't winning the bet now, nobody was.  
It became even more obvious as Arthur grabbed Merlin by the arm, not forcefully, just solidly enough for him to know he had to follow him, and carried him out of the room.  
Merlin was giddy, all giggles and precarious balance, stumbling behind Arthur and blinking frenetically and confusedly when Arthur grabbed him by both shoulders.  
"Whattch do I have to do t' him?"  
Merlin's head flopped to the side as his eyes narrowed.  
"He snogg'd you w'thout your permission.. What d'I have to do t' him? Put him at th' stocks? Burn him at th' stake? You just tell me."  
Merlin stared at him in silence for a couple of seconds, just blinking.  
"I snogg'd him back."  
Arthur was speechless at that. He opened and closed his mouth soundlessly a few times, while Merlin looked at him in complete silence, almost with gravity, before bursting out laughing right at his face, a drunken, coarse, idiotic laughter and blurted out:  
"Y'r jealous!"  
Arthur jumped back, eyebrows knitted, taking a hand off Merlin's shoulder to put it on his own heart.  
"..'M not!"  
Merlin's hands crawled to the nape of his neck.  
"You are.."  
"I'm not.."  
Murmured Arthur, breath caught in his throat.  
Merlin was having way too much fun. He knew he didn't enjoy it one bit, because Lancelot was his friend and he was head over heels for Arthur, but playing for a bit with the man's jealousy was still lots of fun.  
"But why're you, though? B'cause I had Lanc'lot all ov'r my face? B'cause I had his tongue in my mouth, ravishing me? B'cause I could taste him'nd the wine in his breath, or b'cause I--"  
He didn't get to finish his slobbery teasing, because his mouth was suddenly full of Arthur's lips and tongue and panting breath and smell so fast his breath was sucked out of his lungs with the ferocity of a raging storm, his head spinning furiously as he tore free from his grip with a moan. He cradled the prince's face in both of his hands, looking intently at his features with rapid jerks of his irises, before Arthur's hands circled his waist slowly, slipping forward finger by finger almost playfully.  
He smirked and dived in again, smashing his lips against Merlin's, licking his mouth open. Merlin moaned out loud, gripping Arthur's face tightly, digging his fingers into it and slowly letting his legs weaken until his back collided with the stone wall, taking Arthur with him. He opened his mouth, almost devouring the other man's in a way that couldn't be anything but obscene.  
Arthur let a thigh slip between Merlin's legs and he rode it shamelessly, rubbing himself all over him. When they parted for a couple of breaths, he took a long look at Arthur's face: he looked exquisitely ruined. The make up was smudged into a mess, his pupils were blown and his lips plump and red as he'd never seen them. He playfully petted the top of his wings and Arthur growled, pushing himself onto him, sloppily licking his lips as Merlin lewdly humped his leg.  
Arthur thought he had never been more turned on in his entire life. There was a weird, overpowering rush of adrenaline gripping his guts and pulling hard. He felt like there hasn't ever been anything that he needed more than making Merlin his, right in that moment.  
His train of thoughts was shattered when Merlin's hand took a sudden hold of his crotch. Arthur groaned and his right hand came up to take a hold of Merlin's black hair, but it grabbed the feathers instead, and when he pulled, he was left with a handful of black silky feathers, a confused expression and a Merlin bent in half with laughter in his lap.  
He growled and he cupped Merlin's ass in his hands, squeezing hard, making the man shift violently from a laughing fit to a loud, exaggerated moan.  
Arthur's breath hitched in his throat and he squished Merlin's mouth with his finger.  
"Holy-- Merlin, easy! Ever'one in friggin' Camelot's heard ya."  
His drunken brain didn't know why it bothered him. It shouldn't have. Being in a dark hallway with his manservant crowded up against a wall felt like the rightest thing he'd ever done, yet there was a resounding echo that urged him to shush the man. Maybe because he was the prince of Camelot and he needed to have a wife and maintain his dignity and.. but it didn't make sense! He had never been happier to be with somebody, he wanted everyone to see and congratulate him for having such a wonderful man at his arm. Maybe it was possessiveness. Maybe it was the need for a bed.  
Yeah, it had to be that.  
He was about to remove his finger from Merlin's lips to let his plans be known when he got distracted and started unthinkingly playing with them, pressing his fingertip enough to see them squeeze out from both its sides, plump and pink and beautiful, and bounce back into place when he relieved them a bit from the pressure. They were a treasure. He had to remember to call the court painter and have him make hundreds and hundreds of paintings of them to hang all around the castle.  
Just as he was thinking that, Merlin's lips parted slightly and he took his finger into his mouth, circling it lazily with his tongue.  
His eyes fluttered closed only to snap back open and lock into his, cheeks hollowing, a wanton moan deliberately escaping his throat. Arthur was panting as he shamelessly pushed another finger in and saw it being sucked thoroughly by Merlin's mouth, so distracted by the display in front of him that he didn't even notice how hard his thumb was pressing into Merlin's chin from under it, nor how much the man intensely appreciated that. He bobbed his head a few times, then opened his mouth and covered the fingers with sloppy flicks of his tongue. Arthur looked at him and he saw messed up make up, lines of sweat and ruffled hair and a few feathers springing comically from his head and blown out pupils and spit running down his chin, coating his fingers, and he should have found him ridiculous if not disgusting, but truth was he couldn't see him in any way that wasn't jaw-clenchingly hot.  
Merlin saw Arthur's look and mournfully let the fingers go to grab Arthur's head, twist it and smash his face into his in a completely animalistic way, enjoying every second of being ravished stupid by the prince.  
"Let's go." Murmured Arthur into his ear. "Let's go. 'M takin' ya to bed this instant."  
He cupped his ass again but this time he pulled him on his feet by it without even asking, and as Merlin's legs tangled thoughtlessly around his waist, he thought that there surely was a more practical way to hold him, but he discovered that he didn't want to let go of that handful of heaven quite yet.  
Merlin had never felt more ecstatic.  
He still didn't properly know where he was, and his head didn't stop spinning, and Arthur was bumping into things and stopping every few steps to make their mouths collide hastily and he never, ever felt anything more perfect.  
He felt Arthur's cock brush against him more than once, and he tightened his grip with his legs and shoved himself upwards, seeking friction and finding heaven, he threw his head back and downright screamed, trembling hands clawing at Arthur's shoulders as the man plunged into his neck, moved the collar of the black shirt downwards with his chin and bit him with such a vehemence Merlin felt like a meal.  
Arthur began thrusting into him, pistoning him into the wall and Merlin just spread out under him and felt, and took, shivering hand clenching onto the stone wall, seeking for leverage just to slip on its own sweat.  
He heard a faint crack as one of his wings broke under their weight, and when Arthur finally pulled him in his arms again, he felt it wobble downwards, brushing against his back.  
Arthur's mouth made its way through Merlin's hair and sweat and feathers and it landed, warm and wet and overwhelming right on his ear, speaking husky and hotly.  
"Woulda like t'clot my pole?"  
Merlin's eyes widened and he looked at him in all seriousness.  
"Th' doesn't even mak' sense!"  
Arthur pouted.  
"Neith'r does yahr face."  
Merlin pushed his chin out smugly.  
"Yetcha're most lit'rally drooling all ovah it."  
Arthur smiled and leaned in to lick his mouth open once again. When he pulled back, drop of saliva still connecting their mouths, he whispered, "Th't I am."  
After awhile Arthur finally managed to get them to his chambers and dropped Merlin on his bed as soon as they entered, climbing up him and straddling his hips.  
Merlin was having none of that, so he tangled their legs and flipped them over, landing on top of him. He felt the weight of his wings leave his back and a clattering sound on the pavement, so he absentmindedly slid off the bed and began looking for them on the ground with disproportionate concern.  
He was about to start complaining aloud when he saw them under the bed, and he crawled clumsily to grab them. As he emerged again, he grabbed the covers to not slip, with the only result of slipping down even more. When he finally managed to pop his head high enough to cast a glance at Arthur he found him sound asleep, completely spread out on the bed, snoring softly.  
He didn't know whether to laugh, cry or jerk off.  
He stood up on wobbly legs, awkward boner making his movements even more difficult and stumbled out of the room. He was undecided. A part of him wanted to go back to the party and drink and sing and maybe song everyone that vaguely reminded him of Arthur, while the other wanted to go back to his room and wipe all of that itchy paste off his face.  
Even though, when he stumbled for the umpteenth time, ended up on the floor and he passed out in the blink of an eye in a random corridor, he ended up doing neither.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the first time I ever posted anything vaguely smutty online, so please let me know what you think!


	4. Morgana

"Uunghh.."  
The only thing he could feel for a good couple of seconds was a constant, resounding buzz in his ears. He groaned loudly once again as he slowly tried to open his eyes, only to be stabbed by the absurdly blinding light of the day.  
"Oh, thank god you're waking up, you doofus."  
He was so absolutely dazed out that at first he didn't even recognize Gwaine, and his self-defense kicked in, as he reflexively shot a wobbly fist in his general direction, only for it to land on the opposite side of his own body, throwing him completely out of balance and tipping him over on the ground. Gwaine laughed and Merlin felt the sound pierce his brain with such a violence he moaned pitifully.  
The man kneeled before him and gently took him into his arms.   
"Come on, big champ. Let's get your grasshopper little bones down to Gaius. He mobilized the entirety of the castle to find your lanky ass."  
Merlin groaned as he let his head fall on Gwaine's chest. He didn't mind the means of transport one bit.  
"Whaf haffened?"   
He asked, mouth pressing into Gwaine's shirt while drooling all over it.   
Gwaine's nose scrunched up a bit in disgust but apart from that he didn't say anything about it, he just limited himself to answer his question.  
"I don't know!" He chirped, way too cheerful for Merlin's hypersensitive eardrums.  
"I actually found you like this a few minutes ago. I didn't even stop right away, I thought you were a half-plucked turkey that somehow managed to flee the kitchens."  
Merlin's eyebrows furrowed. "Whaf are you going on abouf?" He slurred, before reaching with his hand to scratch a weirdly itching spot on his forehead and retreating it full of black plumage. "Whaf in fhe name of Camelof is fhis?"   
He flinched as he let his hand drop down again like a deadweight, every little movement stabbing his unbearably pulsating head.   
"Don't you remember anything from the party? You and Lance had quite a remarkable time if I may."  
Merlin squeezed his eyes, trying to blur out the pain just enough to let even a couple of memories surface, but it was all a buzzing, dulling void, worse than any hangover he'd ever had.  
"Whaf fhe hell are you going on abouf?" He asked weakly, voice bouncing in time with the undulations he could have avoided to subside if Gwaine hadn't been such an insufferable, cheerful trotter.   
"You mean to tell me you don't remember anything from the masquerade? You as a raven? Arthur as a swan? Me as a radiant sunflower? Percival as a bag of dirt or whatever he was supposed to be? Lancelot snogging you in front of all the nobility?"  
"Me and Arfhur humping each ofher in fhe corridor.." continued Merlin sleepily.  
"Yeah, you and Arthur humping in the- wait, wait, wait, what?!"  
He tried to shake an answer out of Merlin but he had helplessly fallen asleep on his chest all of a sudden, in the most inappropriate moment he could have ever chosen.  
He just whimpered as he felt the cold drool patch slowly expand on his shirt and carried on.

When Merlin woke up again, it was with a long heap of white hair hovering over his face and a pair of fingers squeezing his nostrils shut. Useless to say, he got frightened enough to bolt sitting, mercilessly head-butting the poor man. Both of their hands shot up to the respective owner's forehead, howling with pain.  
"Well, glad to see you're back in the world of the living, I suppose."   
Merlin dropped back on his pillow, eyes dropping shut with a pained moan.  
"Yeah, yeah, he's alive and everything. Let's get to the important matters."  
Gwaine clapped and Merlin winced.  
"Did or didn't you shag the everliving daylight out of Camelot's crown prince?"  
Both Gaius and Merlin turned to look at him.  
"Excuse me?" Exclaimed Gaius, affronted to not being party of the information.  
"Oh, Merlin mumbled something about snogging Arthur in a corridor before passing out in my arms and completely ruining my shirt."  
Merlin's eyes widened.  
"I haven't done anything of the kind!"  
Gwaine all but squeaked:  
"Well, why would you go around saying you did, then?"  
Merlin just blinked, flabbergasted.  
"I was still drunk! God knows what I would have said in that moment!"  
"Okay, then tell me, what happened that didn't involve you and Arthur getting all up close and personal?"   
Merlin opened his mouth to retort to the insinuation but no sound left his lips. He didn't know what to say.. because he didn't remember a thing. His eyes widened as he looked up at his friend.  
"I.. don't know! I honestly don't know. It's like every memory from yesterday night has been wiped away. I vaguely remember Lancelot's unpleasant stubble all over my face and downing every sort of drink known to man.. nothing else."  
Gwaine threw his hands in the air.  
"I give up! I don't know why I even try! I'm telling you here and now, Gaius, and you better mark my words: we will have to physically slam them into each other and hold their pricks out for anything to happen between them without any interferences." And then he stormed out of the room, comically infuriated.  
Merlin cheeped with the most terrified little voice: "What was he talking about?"  
Gaius turned to look at him slowly and his sheepish expression made his cheeks turn a bright red. 

After what had easily been the most awkward breakfast in his entire life, Merlin was sent off to Arthur's chambers with the same herb remedy that helped him with his own hangover, because Gaius figured he'd need it too.  
As he was making his way up the stairs, Gwen ran towards him with the most falsely relieved face he had ever seen on anyone's face, hand on her heart, and said: "Ah, Merlin! Thank God I found you! These flowers need to be given to Morgana by one of her admirers, but I have to run to the market very urgently! Will you do it for me? Oh, thank you, you're a true friend!"   
Merlin didn't have time to say anything as he was left with an enormous bouquet in his hands, pouting at it while he watched Gwen run off.  
Still, he knew he had to tend to his duties before he did anything else, so he started pacing towards Arthur's chambers.  
He knocked softly on the door and when he opened it, Arthur was laying in his bed, shirtless, blankets covering him fully except for his arms, scattered around the pillow. He allowed a fond smile to pierce the veil of his secret before he shook the prince's shoulder to wake him up.  
When the blue of Arthur's eyes gently blossomed as his long lashes fluttered open, he didn't expect to find such unmotivated fondness melted inside them.  
"Hi." Murmured Arthur, cracking him the widest, most charming smile.   
"Good morning, sire. Why such a good mood today?"  
Arthur let his head loll back a little, smiling so contently he looked almost childish.  
"Honestly, Merlin, today I can't think of anything that can put me in a bad mood."  
Merlin giggled too, caught up in the man's euphoria, and offered him the potion Gaius prepared, absentmindedly moving the other hand -the one with the flowers - on his hip, capturing the prince's gaze.  
At that point, Arthur smiled the most amazing smile and pulled himself up on his elbows. "Are those for me?" He murmured huskily.  
Merlin flinched and jumped back, caught off guard, and blurted out with more harshness than he meant to: "No, why would they be? They're for Morgana!"   
He didn't know why Arthur had said that, he didn't know why it wasn't with a playful tone but an almost seducing one, and there was something in that fondness that scared him to death, because he was desperate to know what it was for, and he felt like something really important was fleeing his grip.  
As soon as he had spoken, though, the look on Arthur's face disappeared as inexplicably as it had appeared.   
In fact, his smile fell so suddenly it was almost heart-wrenching.  
"Oh, alright then." His tone had dropped down, and it had turned cold as he'd never heard it. 

The breakfast had gone by with nothing but a couple of words effectively spoken, minutes that felt like running underwater, impossibly slow and incredibly uneasy. Merlin felt horribly. He knew he did something to wrong Arthur really badly, but he had no clue of what, and he was too afraid to ask. Arthur wasn't angry: he could deal with that. He was beyond disappointed, his eyes were bearing a hurt so sheer that froze him into place, and that.. that he couldn't fix, because he didn't know how to. He was admittedly good with words, but that one look on that one face and the knowledge that he was the one that had put it there in the first place shattered his very being, and he was unable to think of a single thing to say to make it better.  
He just settled to follow him around, miserable and frustrated, and follow his harshly mumbled commands. They were walking down a corridor, heading to the training field, when Morgana intercepted them and Merlin caught the occasion to shove awkwardly the flowers into her hands. She smiled brightly and threw herself in his arms, stamping a huge lipstick-y kiss on his cheek. He blushed as she chirped:  
"Oh, Merlin, you're such a sweetheart!"  
He tried to respond to her affections the best he could while looking at Arthur's blonde head disappear down the corridor without waiting for him.  
Morgana noticed Merlin's gaze and followed it, huffing and slumping in his arms when she saw the reason she was doing that in the first place disappear down the corridor.  
"It's not working.."  
Merlin didn't listen to her, almost didn't even hear her because of how busy he was sighing dejectedly. If the woman didn't throw him on the ground because of the vehemence she pushed herself out of his arms with, she almost did with the sheer power of the glare she shot him.  
"Don't you dare to give up on him."  
Merlin looked down at her confusedly, but the deep blush that was starting to spread on his cheeks gave him away in a heartbeat. Morgana pointed at Arthur with a flick of her head, and then locked her gaze with his, extremely serious.  
"He needs you more than he'd ever admit to you, least of all himself.  
I don't quite know how to say it, but you changed him. He's a better person since he met you. It's like the pieces of your wisdom and good heart that you scatter feed his own. Don't get me wrong, he has always been a good man in his way, but you're what's going to lead him to greatness. It's like you saw an incredible, shining good in him and you're bringing it out piece by piece, slowly, every day.  
He needs you, and you need him. And.. he's a good man, plus he's like my brother. I hate seeing him suffer, he deserves all the happiness in the world, and I know you could make him happy like nothing and no one else could."  
Merlin felt almost numb. His mouth was dry, his heart thrumming in his temples as a feeling of panic crept over him. He didn't know how to handle being faced directly with his feelings for Arthur, nor with the fact of somebody else knowing. The only thing he could do was fleeing, and so he did, taking off after Arthur as fast as he could without looking back, leaving Morgana with a confused smile playing on her lips.


	5. Sir Leon

Merlin had to run until he was almost out of breath to reach Arthur in time to change him into his armor for the usual training with the knights, that went by like usual, except Arthur was ferocious and didn't shot him the vaguest little glance, when he used to smile at him, gloating every time he overpowered someone.  
After the training, Merlin was quietly taking off Arthur's armor in the changing room with the other knights, and he was frustrated to the point of crying. Arthur didn't look at him, didn't show any sign of what he was thinking, completely impassible except for his jaw, clenched hardest than he'd ever seen it. After Gwaine had been looking at the two of them for awhile, shifting his gaze from Merlin to Arthur and back again as he unwrapped from a cloth a piece of cake he previously stole from the kitchen, he finally exclaimed: "Why can't you be more like me and Percy?", dropping on the bench where the man was sitting and swinging his arm around him.  
Percival looked beyond unimpressed, looking down at him from the height of his muscular, sinewy figure. "Call me that again and you'll be pushing up daisies, mop."  
Gwaine dramatically brought a hand to his heart, faking a hurt bewilderment.  
"Words wound more than you can imagine, Percititty."  
Elyan rolled his eyes and sighed at them. "Oh, quit it. We all perfectly know you throw yourselves under each other's bedsheets as soon as you have the chance."  
Gwaine shrugged and munched on his piece of cake.  
"I don't kiss and tell." He raised an eyebrow. "What about you two?" He asked, casually pointing Arthur and Merlin with a nod of his head.  
Arthur's head shot up at that, and he snapped with a humor that couldn't be anything but harsh, stained with a sickening hurt: "I know Merlin is trying to become, if he already isn't, a regular of Morgana's under-bedsheets."  
And then he snatched the piece of armor Merlin was working on removing, ripped it off and dropped it on the ground, shoving himself out of his grip while the knights stared in astonished silence. He removed his chainmail and discarded it. It clanged on the ground, echoing in the dead silence, and he stormed out of the room, leaving Merlin to gulp back his tears in the whiff of cold air vibrating with rage he left behind his movement.  
Leon was the only one who dared to crack the icy silence after a few seconds.  
"I'd run after him, if I were you."  
Merlin turned and blinked at him a couple of times, cracked the tiniest smile and rushed out of the room. The knights looked at each other, and Gwaine blurted out: "I'm not going to lose to YOU of all people! I'll chop my right hand off before even thinking of handing half a golden coin to you!"  
Elyan rolled his eyes.  
"Stop being overdramatic, Gwaine."  
The man's head jerked in his direction.  
"He didn't do anything, come on, I'm not going to have him declared as the winner! This isn't anything but outrageous!"  
"I can't believe I almost risked my life for this. Leon is the worst person I know." Muttered Lancelot, arms crossed, leaning against a wall.

When Merlin first stepped out, he did it with an explosive impetus, but he remained dazzled for a couple of seconds as he got invested by the power of an almost overwhelming rain.  
He saw Arthur's red shirt in the distance and he took off after him, shouting his name. When he got close enough, he saw that Arthur had stopped, fists clenched, and he found himself doubting if that was a good sign or a bad one.  
"Arthur.."  
The prince spun around, and he looked breath-taking. Wet hair scattered around his forehead, vibrant blue eyes contrasting with the grey of the sky but certainly not with its wetness, reddened nose and cheeks. And he was broken. Shattered. The look in his eyes didn't feel like the raging sting of a sword trespassing flesh and meat, but like fragments of glass in the wind, scratching and whipping and drawing blood, hurting so relentlessly and entirely that they leave plainly breathless.  
And the words were sucked out of his mouth as he was left gaping and breathing hard, droplets of rain scattering everywhere because of a frenetically raising chest and fluttering lashes. Arthur clicked his tongue in his mouth and shook his head lightly.  
"I would have given up everything for you, you know?"  
He murmured lowly, looking straight into Merlin's eyes as the man's breath caught in his throat. His legs went wobbly and he felt dazed, on the verge of dropping to his knees.  
"I would have gone on a fight against my father, I would have ended up refusing my legitimate place on the throne and Camelot itself for you. I thought it meant something, yesterday night.. I thought it meant something to you."  
Merlin's eyes widened. His mind suddenly flooded with thousands of feather-like touches and stares and smiles and tastes and smells and breaths and kisses and..  
"It.. It wasn't a dream."  
Arthur chuckled, a dry, venomous chuckle.  
"I think it had the same importance of one to you, though, didn't it? Seeing the way you were kissing Lancelot or how you were bringing flowers to Morgana this morning like we didn't- like I don't- like.. "  
Arthur clapped his hands on his thighs and the wet smacking sound they made felt like frustration, like squirming between the words he wasn't strong enough to say.  
Merlin gulped, locked his gaze with Arthur's, then carefully took a step closer.  
"Like you don't exist? Like you don't matter to me? Like I wouldn't - and didn't already - do anything in this world to keep you safe, like I wouldn't burn everything else to the ground just to give you a crumble of happiness? I'm in love with you, Arthur. And it's not something that I can change my mind about, because it has happened so slowly that now it's intrinsic of me. You and my love for you have grown inside me so fiercely that now.. Now I couldn't rip them away if I wanted. And Morgana, or anyone else really, could become dear to me, but nothing in the world could stand a chance with the way I love you, entirely, absolutely and without hesitations."  
His chest was heaving and he was blinking furiously to keep both raindrops and tears out of his eyes.  
They were staring at each other in total stupor, both for a different thing, and they would have done it forever if Arthur didn't breathe out a whisper soaked in awed wonder, so light it could barely be heard in the deafening sound of the rain.  
"I.. I was going to say.." he swallowed. "Like I don't love you with every fiber of my being."  
Merlin huffed out a harsh breath because he had been holding it. They were realizing only in that moment the weight of what they had just said. In fear of losing one another, they had hurried to rip their hearts out and hand them over, and now they were throbbing faintly in the aftermath of the devastating explosion of words old of years and renewed every very second, under the thundering rain.  
Arthur tentatively stepped forward with an uncertain expression and that was all it took for Merlin to jump into his arms, hugging his neck and smashing their lips together in the clumsiest, most perfect kiss he'd ever have.  
Arthur chuckled wetly, and rain flowed with tears until they couldn't tell them apart, until it was all washed away and they were left alone, naked of all the secrets and the hurt and plainly in love, kissing and laughing and kissing again, and Arthur hugged Merlin's waist, raised him into his chest and spun them around.  
As he was throwing his head back, laughing openly and freely and genuinely, he thought he might have never felt better in his entire existence.

Gaius had expected Merlin to come home in a thousand possible ways that evening, but what he never would have imagine was to see him burst through the front door soaking wet, dripping water all over his floor and smiling like he'd never seen him, open his arms and laugh heartily and noisily and throw himself into his arms and hug him tight for a few moments, before storming off to his room singing like a madman, and he thought that maybe, just maybe, the world wasn't such a bad place.


End file.
